


Raindrops

by KAStone, TheGirlWhoPlayedWithTime (KAStone)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Awesome Donna Noble, Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAStone/pseuds/KAStone, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAStone/pseuds/TheGirlWhoPlayedWithTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right at the moment where ninety-year-old Donna Noble dies, a flash from her past shows up with a very important gift: herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raindrops

The old woman watched the rain make patterns on the window. She wished she could hear it. In all of her over ninety years she has loved the rain, loved storms. It was much too quiet in this hospital room, and she had been here much too long. She had spent far too many days in this room. Everything was too clean, too organized. The nurses were too nice and nothing exciting ever happened.

She knew she wouldn't be here much longer. She had been sick for too long. It was no use anymore. All of them knew there was no cure, and even if there were, she was old. She had lived her life. She had lost so many people over the years. First her grandfather, then her mother, her husband, her friends. Her children were all grown with their own children. Even most of those children had kids of their own. If only her stubborn son, John, would let her go. She smiled at this thought. John always had the best of intentions. When he was a boy, he was always so polite, he always did what he was told. Not at all like his mother at that age.

The woman looked again at the window. Of course it has to rain, she thought, how cinematic.

She had never been one to reflect on things, but seeing as this would be her last chance, she looked back on her near century of life. She'd had a good life. Good job, good family. Good life. That was it. Good. Not remarkable. Not fantastic. No one will remember me, she realized. Sure, her family would mourn her, but what about when they were gone? What had she ever left behind to be remembered by? She was not important.

With that realization, that thought of unimportance, she suddenly feared death. She was angry. What's the point? she thought, What's was the point of all this? By tomorrow I'll be gone and it won't even have mattered. The world will keep on like nothing even happened. I'm just not important.

Her anger was replaced by immense regret. Why hadn't she done more when she'd had the chance? She longed for a second chance. She would do it different.

How? she demanded, What could you have done? You were never special. Now there she was, referring to herself in the past tense as though she were already gone. I might as well be to most of the world.

Her moment of self pity was interrupted by the door opening. She didn't take her eyes away from the rain. It was probably just the nurses again and either way the effort was too much. The person didn't say anything, they just sat next to her. That was something even John hadn't done in a long time. Finally mustering the will to look at her new visitor, she turned her head away from the rain.

It was a young man wearing a suit that didn't quite fit right. His dark hair stuck up in a way that hadn't been in style for years. He was staring at the window too.

"Who are you," the woman rasped for speaking had long since become a challenge.

"Interesting weather," the stranger remarked, "always loved the rain, the patterns it leaves on the glass. Beautiful, but in a mesmerizing sort of way, don't you think?"

She stared at this strange man with a look of utter confusion. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn't remember who. Someone from a dream, maybe?

He looked down to meet her eyes. There was something there she couldn't place. A wisdom, a sadness too great for his young face. Without another word he reached his hands to the sides of her temple and closed his eyes. She only had a second to wonder what he was doing before it hit her.

A wave of memories. Stars, other planets, aliens. The emotions came too. Fear, love, excitement, sadness. As her mind began to put them back in order, one of them stayed in the front. Planets in the sky. Horrible monsters, What were they called? Daleks, she remembered, they were Daleks. There was fire. Where was she? I was in the TARDIS. The TARDIS. It was burning. But I saved it. I saved him. I am Donna Noble and I was the most important woman in the whole Universe.

Tears welled in her old eyes as she looked at this stranger who wasn't a stranger. She smiled and took his hand. "Doctor," she exclaimed in her weak voice, "My Doctor."

She saw the sadness grow in his even older eyes. "I'm sorry, Donna," he said, "I'm so, so sorry."

A single tear fell from her eye as she whispered, "Oi, Spaceman, I remember you. My Doctor."

And with these last words, that one final goodbye, the laws of nature caught up to her.

Donna Noble died.

Whether it was from the overload of Time Lord thoughts or if was going to happen anyway didn't matter. He had done what he could. He released her hand, wiped the tear from her cheek and closed her eyes. He left the hospital alone, the rain masking the tears that fell from Donna's Doctor's eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do this. Donna Noble is one of the saddest stories in Doctor Who history, and I don't think the Doctor's so heartless as to leave her forever. I always thought he wanted people to think the best of themselves, which Donna only did around him. It wasn't fair for her to forget. I figured a decent loophole of the metacrisis would be if she was going to die anyway.


End file.
